The Man Behind the Mask
by Sara K M
Summary: Canon. Pre - Twilight Billy always told Charlie Swan that the Cullens shouldn't be in the area and Dr. Cullen certainly shouldn't be working in a hospital. But when Police Chief Swan bring in a domestic violence victim to Forks hospital, he gets to know Carlisle Cullen a little better. Meanwhile, Carlisle deals with his own demons with domestic violence cases.


The Man Behind the Mask

 **Disclaimer: I don't own** _ **Twilight.**_

 **I'd like to thank Miki in Blue Jeans for betaing this. Particularly with the medical stuff.**

 **I was thinking about the scene in the beginning of the first** _ **Twilight**_ **novel a few weeks ago. Charlie Swan defended Carlisle very passionately for some reason. Why? It struck me as odd, particularly considering he'd obviously said something to his best friend as well. It would seem to me that a man like Charlie would listen to his best friend more than a man he didn't really know. (Carlisle.) So I decided he must have gotten to know Carlisle Cullen personally somehow, and become impressed with him. A domestic violence case sounded like the perfect case for Charlie and Carlisle to get to know each other a little better.**

 **I talked to Miki, and she agreed Carlisle and Charlie** _ **had**_ **to have worked together for Charlie to defend him like that. She helped me a little with Charlie's character (something I was** _ **very**_ **uncomfortable writing), and some of the modern medical issues that would be important for this. (And if you like Carlisle and Esme you should** _ **definitely**_ **read her "Faith and Love" if you haven't already.)**

 **OOOOOOOOOOO means time change**

 **XXXXXXXXXXXX means POV change**

Carol Quincy woke up sore. _Again._ She could barely move this time. It hurt to breath and her left arm was killing her. Dan had thrown her against the wall last night. Sometimes she wondered why she put up with that man. Hadn't she been told in school that if you were in an abusive relationship, you needed to get out? That the person would only get worse? Should she leave this time? File a restraining order against Dan, like the doctors and nurses at Forks Hospital were always telling her to do?

Dan stretched on the bed next to her. Carol hoped he wouldn't hit her will he was doing that. Her body was too sensitive for that. She scooted over, wincing at the pain that shot threw her. Dan opened his eyes and looked at her tenderly. "Are you alright?" he asked softly. "I'm sorry about last night, sweetheart. But you know you shouldn't yell at me like that. "Would you like me to make you some tea? It might help."

"Yes," Carol replied. "Thank you."

Dan got out of bed and got dressed. He ran his hands through his thick, dark hair. "I'll be right back." That was one reason why she never pressed charges against him. When he wasn't hitting, punching, squeezing or throwing her, he was so sweet. A good husband. Dan was right away; none of it would ever happen if she didn't yell at him. He was just defending himself. She needed to remember that.

Dan was back in a few minutes with a mug of warm tea. He was so good to Carol most of the time. He even knew she liked to drink warm tea when she didn't feel good and was willing to make it himself. Carol struggled to sit up. Ouch, that hurt! She moaned in pain. Her chin – length blond hair stuck in her face.

"Do you need help?" Dan asked, offering his arm. It was a very _large_ arm; Dan used to play football in high school.

But Carol was able to sit up herself eventually. "No. I'm alright." She picked up the tea with her left hand. It was a good thing she was right – handed; she was pretty sure her left arm was broken.

"Do you need to go to the hospital today?" Dan asked nervously. Carol knew why he was nervous; the people at the hospital didn't like him very much. It was too bad, considering he was always nice at the hospital. All Carol's injuries were her fault, anyway. She'd told the doctors and nurses that before.

Carol shrugged. She probably _should_ go, at least to get her arm in a cast. But she really didn't want to. She didn't like the way they treated Dan. "I think I'll be okay," she told him. She'd managed to move a _little_ so far, so she'd be fine.

Dan looked at her again. "Are you sure? If you're really hurting, I could bring you. I hate to see you in so much pain."

Carol almost agreed then. Dan was such a sweetheart for taking care of her.

But before she could, Dan shrugged. "If you're okay, though I'd rather get to the shop. I've got some cars to work on." Her husband owned a used car lot. He fixed up old cars and resold them. He also did some repair work on the side. He made a decent living.

After he disappeared, Carol attempted to go to the bathroom. Breathing and any movement at all was still a problem, so it wasn't easy. And she still couldn't use her left arm. It took her about a half hour to get there. Then she had to get to the kitchen for breakfast. When she finally got there, her three – year old son, Tommy was trying to get the cereal himself. "Tommy! Be careful," she called as he stood on a chair to reach the cupboard. She certainly didn't need to see Tommy injured, too.

"I'm hungry, Mom!" he protested. "And it sounded like you could use some help today."

Carol smiled. "I guess you're right, Tommy. But I still don't want you hurt."

Tommy pulled out the Fruit Loops and smiled. "Okay." Tommy was good at helping Carol when she was a little hurt.

Carol pulled out two bowls, careful to use only her right hand to do so. Then she opened the refrigerator door, wincing as she did so. Slowly she pulled out a judge of milk, still wincing. "Do you need help with that, too, Mom?" Tommy asked.

"No, but it's nice of you to offer, Tommy." Carol appreciated Tommy's help, but she didn't think he could handle pouring a milk jug. He just didn't have the coordination yet. Unfortunately, Carol apparently didn't have the coordination, either. Not with one hand. She tried to poor the milk into Tommy's cereal, and ended up pouring it all over the floor instead.

She carefully picked up some dish towels and bent down to pick it up. That hurt worse than anything she'd done today. Carol couldn't stop the shriek of pain, although she hated to do that in front of her son.

"Don't worry, Mom," Tommy said cheerfully, getting on the floor himself. "I'll take care of it." There was a pause. "Mommy, why do you get hurt so much?"

Carol sighed. Tommy had asked this before. She did her best to explain it to him. "It's my fault, Tommy. I get upset and yell at Daddy too much. Then he has to defend himself."

Tommy nodded. "I wish you'd try harder not to yell at Daddy, Mommy. Sometimes I dream Daddy gets so mad he makes you bisappear."

Carol stopped and stared at Tommy for a minute. Tommy was worried Dan would make her 'disappear?' "Tommy you know I'd never leave this family, no matter what, don't you?" There's no way Carol could leave her precious boy. And despite their problems, Carol would never leave, Dan either.

Tommy shook his head as he finished cleaning up the milk. "Thank you, Mom. But you might bisappear even if you don't want to. Like Grandpa and Grandma."

Carol's mouth dropped open. Tommy's Grandpa and Grandma were dead. Did Tommy _really_ think there was a possibility that Dan would _kill_ her someday? How could he think that? Dan _loved_ Carol. She knew he did. Look at all the things he still did for her. "That won't happen either, Tommy," Carol told him.

Tommy shrugged. "Okay." But he sounded uncertain. He finished the cleaning up the milk and began eating his cereal dry. "I don't need milk today, Mom."

Carol thought about that for the next couple of hours (when she wasn't thinking of the extreme pain she was in). Could Tommy _possibly_ be right? After all, there was a time where Carol couldn't believe Dan would ever hit her. Now he hit her all the time. And the beatings and injuries got worse and worse. Even if Dan didn't _kill_ her, Tommy was worried about it. Was it good for Carol to be in a place where her son worried about his mother like that? Still, Carol hated to leave Dan. He could be such a good man. Could she really do that?

Tommy looked at Carol again as he played with his blocks later that morning. He looked worried about her again. It wasn't good for a kid his age to be worried all the time like this. He was supposed to be carefree and happy. Carol took a deep breath, and groaned in pain. Then she made her way to the phone and dialed the Forks Police Station.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Charlie Swan filed another report. Just a speeding ticket, of course. Speeding tickets and traffic accidents were what most of his job consisted of. But Charlie was happy enough with it.

As he picked up another report, the phone rang. "Forks Police Station; Chief Swan speaking," he answered.

"Hello?" replied an uncertain voice. "I was wondering…no forget it," she sighed, seeming to lose her nerve. But as she did so, Charlie was pretty sure he heard a groan of pain.

"Ma'am?" he asked. "Are you alright?"

"Can you tell where the women and children's shelters' are in this area? For…people who get hurt, that is."

"Of course, ma'am," he replied immediately, looking up the information. "Are you hurt, ma'am? Do you need help?"

"Well, I just need to get out of my house. But I, ouch!, have no place to go."

"Of course, that's what those shelters are for. But it sounds like you might need to go to the hospital first."

There was a pause. "Maybe. But I can't drive. My left arm is broken, I think."

"I'll come get you," Charlie volunteered. "What's your address?"

There was another pause. "But my son. I can't leave him by himself…."

"We'll bring him with us. You sound like you need a doctor, ma'am."

The woman finally gave out his address, and Charlie got in his police car. Hopefully, he could convince the woman to do more than just go to the doctor. Whoever it was that attacked her needed to be arrested for assault. As soon as possible. No man should hurt a woman like that.

Charlie eventually found the house. It was a modest little house that was painted a pale green. There was a tree out front. It looked like a happy home, but he knew it wasn't. He got out of the police car and knocked on the door.

A three – year old boy opened the door. "Are you hear to help Mommy? She's hurt real bad today."

Charlie smiled at the kid. "I'll do my best. Ma'am?"

There was a blond – haired woman sitting on the couch. She attempted to get up and moaned in pain again. Charlie wondered if there was another injury besides her arm. "Can I help you to the car, ma'am?"

The woman nodded. So Charlie wrapped his arm around her, trying to let her lean on him as she slowly walked out of the house. Whoever did this to her needed to pay.

When she finally got into the police car, she gasped. Then she moaned in pain again. "Tommy! His car seat is in my car."

Charlie nodded and retrieved it. "Come on, Tommy. Do you want to help your mother?"

"Yes!" Tommy agreed eagerly and got into the car as well.

As Charlie drove to Forks Hospital, he asked her what her name was. (He couldn't believe he hadn't asked her that yet.)

"Carol Quincy."

"So who gave you those injuries?"

"My husband, Dan. But it wasn't really his fault! He was just defending himself."

Charlie couldn't believe his ears. "If that's _all_ it was, you wouldn't be hurt so badly. Does he _ever_ get hurt himself?"

Mrs. Quincy paused for a minute. And then another minute. "No. Not really. But he gets upset when I yell at him…"

"There are _definitely_ better ways to deal with anger than hitting and injuring people. Even if _you_ were yelling. Does he hurt your son, too?" He pictured the injuries a man could do on a child Tommy's size and gripped the steering wheel tighter.

"No. He never bothers Tommy," Mrs. Quincy said firmly. "I promise."

"But I _hate_ it when Daddy hurts Mommy," Tommy said from the backseat. "I try to help her when she hurt, but he just hurts her more and more! It scares me, that someday I won't be able to help," he whispered.

Charlie gripped the steering wheel tighter. How could a man do something like that to his family? "Mrs. Quincy, I would like you to _seriously_ consider charging your husband for assault. Or at least a restraining order."

"Would that help Mommy so she don't hurt no more?"

"It should, yes. Tommy. It should make it a lot harder."

"Then can you please do that Mom? I don't like being scared."

Mrs. Quincy sighed. "Do you understand that Daddy won't like it, Tommy? Do you understand that we won't live with Daddy anymore? That Daddy might even go to jail?"

There was a pause. "I'd miss Daddy, but I still don't want you to have hurts, Mommy."

They arrived at the hospital. "Can I talk to you a little more while you get checked out?"

Mrs. Quincy nodded slowly.

He took Tommy out of the car seat and helped the lady into the hospital. Charlie explained to the front desk that Mrs. Quincy was a domestic violence victim that needed to be looked at. He was pretty sure her arm was broken and it looked like there might be something wrong with her ribs, too. The woman promised a doctor would look at her as soon as possible.

The doctor that came out, though made Charlie uncomfortable. Dr. Cullen looked nice enough, with his lab coat on and bright smile. But Charlie's friend Billy, said the Cullen's shouldn't be in the area and Dr. Cullen _certainly_ should not work at the hospital. Charlie had once thought Billy meant that was because the children were trouble makers, but he'd never had _any_ problems with the teenagers. Was there something…wrong or sinister about Dr. Cullen? There was nothing Charlie could do about it now, though. Mrs. Quincy was already getting up (or trying to get it up). She moaned in pain again.

"Let me help you," Charlie volunteered.

"No, I need, ouch! Someone to watch Tommy," Mrs. Quincy protested. Charlie nodded as he looked at Tommy. He was currently stacking all the magazines in the waiting room like they were blocks.

"It's okay, Mrs. Quincy. I can help you," Dr. Cullen told her, helping her up slowly.

A nurse appeared from somewhere. "I can help, too!" She seemed a little too eager. As she gazed the doctor, Charlie realized why. He rolled his eyes. Okay, so Dr. Cullen was good – looking. Incredibly good – looking. But that was no reason for a professional woman to act like a school girl. Charlie had to wonder if this was the kind of thing that Billy meant. If people acted _like that_ around him, was he able to do his job?

But the doctor, the nurse, and Mrs. Quincy had already disappeared down the hall. Charlie turned back to Tommy, who was still happily playing with the magazine – blocks.

OOOOOOOOOO

Charlie waited for about an hour before he decided to talk to Mrs. Quincy again. He hoped she had decided to press charges against her deadbeat husband. Before doing so, he made sure the receptionist could watch Tommy for a few minutes. He walked down the hall, looking for a room that the woman might be in. He found nothing.

"Can I help you, Chief Swan?" asked one of the nurses as she walked by.

"Yes. I wanted to know where Mrs. Quincy was. I was hoping to get a statement from her."

The nurse nodded. "That would be nice, to put some charges against her husband. She's here far too often," the nurse shook her head.

"Deadbeat," Charlie commented. "What kind of man treats his wife like that?" He made a fist with one of his hands. "I mean how could he…?"

"I don't know," the nurse replied. "Anyway, you'll have to wait a while longer to talk to her. She still in surgery."

"Surgery? I thought she just had some broken bones? Was it worse than that? Should I have gotten her sooner?"

"Calm down, Chief. It _was_ a broken arm and some broken ribs. But Dr. Cullen said some of the bones in her arm were displaced. She needed to be operated on, so they'd heal properly."

"I see," Charlie replied, returning to the waiting room. It surprised him, among other things, that Dr. Cullen could do surgery. Okay, so it wasn't a complicated surgery, but still. Most patients who needed surgery had to go to Seattle where there were more trained surgeons available.

"So Tommy," Charlie asked when he returned. "What are you up to now buddy?" He didn't seem interested in the magazines anymore.

Tommy shrugged.

"Why don't you put the magazines away, and we'll find you something else to do?"

Tommy sighed, but did as he was told.

Charlie shook his head as he watched the boy. He hoped he was doing a good job. He didn't have much experience with kids, except Bella and Billy's children, and _none_ of them had been this young in years.

Eventually Tommy picked up all the magazines. "Mister?"

"Yes?" Charlie asked.

"Will my Mom _really_ be okay?"

Charlie sighed. "I think she will be. There's a good doctor helping her."

"And you'll help her so Daddy won't hurt her anymore, right?"

"Yes."

Tommy nodded.

Charlie thumbed through the magazines, trying to find a kid – friendly one. He pulled out a _Highlights._ "Here, look at that."

OOOOOOOOOOOOO

Eventually, the one of the nurses told Charlie that Mrs. Quincy was recovered enough to talk. He asked that the receptionist or one of the nurse watch Tommy in the meantime and headed for Mrs. Quincy's room.

Dr. Cullen was still there, talking softly to the woman. "I can give you some pain reliever soon, if you want. Especially for the ribs. But Mrs. Quincy, _you have to_ talk to the police officer first. Your husband needs to be prosecuted."

Mrs. Quincy nodded slowly. _Good_ Charlie thought.

Dr. Cullen looked up at Charlie and nodded for him to come in. "And don't forget to tell someone if you feel a cold coming on. That can be a problem with broken ribs, because a person has such a hard time couching. Fluid can collect."

Charlie came in and sat down next to the woman while Dr. Cullen disappeared. Her left arm was in a cast and a sling. "Call if the pain gets to be too much," he added as he left.

Charlie took out a tape recorder out of his pocket. It was a good thing he always had these available. "Can you tell me what happened last night that put you in this condition, Ma'am?"

Mrs. Quincy sighed, and then moaned in pain again. "It started when Dan and I were going to bed. He left his shoes on when he laid down, and I don't like that. It gets footprints on the bed, and then I have to wash them off…It's a hassle. But he said it was his house and he could do whatever he wanted. He was right, of course. I shouldn't have yelled at him."

"Ma'am," Charlie tried to say gently. "That sounds like a simple fight. I shouldn't have resulted in an attack."

Mrs. Quincy nodded. "But we kept arguing. One thing after another. I can't even _remember_ half of the things we argued about. And the next thing I knew, he grabbed me and squeezed my rib cage so hard – it hurt so much," tears welled up in the woman's eyes. "And then he _threw me_ against the wall. I tried to put my left arm in front of me…so it wouldn't hurt so much…but my arm!"

Charlie nodded and turned off the tape recorder. He was glad the interview was over; tears made him uncomfortable. "Thank you, ma'am. Would you like some pain reliever now? I can tell the nurse."

Mrs. Quincy shook her head. "I need to see Tommy first. Show him I'll be alright."

Charlie nodded. "I'll send him in. We can charge your husband with assault, Mrs. Quincy. Possibly even third degree assault. And I recommend filing a restraining order on him too, so he can't see you when he gets out on bail."

"But Danny…" the woman shook her head.

"Could have caused you permanent damage when he through you against the wall," Charlie said firmly. "You don't want him to get worse. Keep yourself safe. For your son."

"Okay."

"Seeing his son could get complicated," Charlie admitted. "Because we can't file a restraining order against the boy unless he attacked the boy, too. But a social worker may be willing to take your son to see his father, and supervise him."

"Send in Tommy," Mrs. Quincy said firmly.

Charlie left the room and did just that.

While Tommy talked to his mother, Charlie went to talk to Dr. Cullen. Perhaps he could use the x – ray pictures as evidence. After all, the man made it clear he wanted Mr. Quincy arrested, too.

Charlie found Dr. Cullen in his office. "Come in," Dr. Cullen called.

"Hello, Dr. Cullen. I was wondering if I could have a copy of Mrs. Quincy's x – rays. I mean, I know it's supposed to be doctor – patient confidentiality but – "

" – But it would help get that man behind bars," Dr. Cullen finished. "Of course."

He picked up the x – ray and handed it to Charlie. "I'm going to have to have those back," Dr. Cullen warned him. "For her file. I'll give you another copy before you leave."

Charlie nodded as he examined the x – rays. They looked worse than he thought. The condition of the woman's left arm…no wonder she needed surgery! Even the ribs were worse than he thought, broken on both sides. And Dr. Cullen was able to help her?

"Shocking what that man was able to do her?" Dr. Cullen asked.

Charlie nodded. "That's one word for it. I'm glad you were here to help her, though."

Dr. Cullen shrugged. "I did the best I could. I'm just glad she decided to have her husband arrested. She's been in and out of this hospital for the last _year._ Of course, it's always _her_ fault." There was a loud crack as he said that, and Dr. Cullen suddenly had ink all over his hand and his white lab coat. Apparently, the doctor was angrier about this then he let on, if he broke a pen with his bare hand. Good for him.

"But I'm serious, about you being able to help her, Dr. Cullen. She was lucky to have you here. What's a surgeon like you doing working in a tiny hospital like this? I thought most of you big – shot doctors liked the big hospitals."

Dr. Cullen chuckled. "My wife, actually. She likes small towns better, and I'd do anything to make her happy."

"Well, I think it's great that you're here," Charlie told him. Forget what Billy said. Dr. Cullen was one of the best doctors Charlie had _ever_ seen or heard about.

Dr. Cullen nodded. "Let me get you a copy of those x – rays."

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

OOOOOOOOO

Carlisle Cullen was _not_ an angry man. Things that would and did make others _irate_ didn't bother him. Aro teased Carlisle and tried to manipulate him into trying human blood for years; Carlisle found it merely annoying. Other vampires encouraged him to try "the natural food source"; he simply ignored them. Emmett often tried to provoke Carlisle into being angry by pulling pranks on Carlisle or other family members, but Carlisle ignored that, too. Edward and Rosalie, with their tempers and stubbornness constantly clashed in their household, but that didn't make Carlisle angry, either. (Annoyed, maybe, but not angry.) Even so – called "older doctors" who acted as if Carlisle was an idiot because he was fresh out of medical school didn't bother him that much.

In fact, many people would believe Carlisle had no temper at all. Unfortunately, that wasn't really true. Behind his mask, there were things that made Carlisle angry. Something that _really_ made Carlisle's temper flare was treating someone who had been harmed by someone they trusted. He looked at children who had been hurt by parents or relatives and would _growl._ How could they do such a thing? He hated to see anyone hurt, but when it was someone who was supposed to love and take care of another…it got under his skin.

Still, there was _nothing_ that made Carlisle more livid than a domestic violence victim. The woman he had treated today had been here several times in the last year. Twice for a broken wrist, once for a broken nose, and once for a burn infection. Carlisle noticed bruises on her _every time_ he treated her as well. And she always insist it was her fault, of course. Carlisle lost count of how many times he growled at the husband when she came in. It was just fortunate that the man never noticed. (He tried to do it when the other…man was out of ear shot.)

Carlisle also believed in free will. _Strongly._ He was not one of those coven leaders who acted like a dictator. Each family member would always voice their opinion and they would decide together what the best option was. Furthermore, he always made it clear to _every_ one of the newborns he created that they didn't _have_ to stay with him. And Carlisle would never perform an operation or treatment against a patient's will, either.

Still, Carlisle _hated_ to see this woman, Mrs. Quincy, constantly return to her husband and his beatings. He asked, begged, pleaded, and demanded that she have her husband arrested. She refused, of course. Because it was "her fault." Carlisle had just about decided to call the police without her permission the next time she came in. He hated to force people like that…but Carlisle _had_ to do something.

Every time he saw this woman, and other woman like her, he thought of Esme's human life. He wondered how many of these injuries _she_ suffered from as well back then. He hated himself for not checking on Esme while she was human again. Just once. To help her get out of that horrible situation. He _needed_ to help Mrs. Quincy and other women like her, to make up for his mistake.

Carlisle was _incredibly_ relieved that Mrs. Quincy came in with the police chief this time. Especially when she saw how horrible her injuries were with the x – ray. She had _finally_ called the police herself, thus saving Carlisle from an uncomfortable decision. Carlisle was more than happy to help Chief Swan in any way he could. He'd let him see her x – rays and even gave him a copy for the police report.

Carlisle looked down at the huge ink stain on his white lab coat. It would be best to throw it away. His Esme could work magic with stains but a black ink stain on a white coat… _that_ was too much for even her. Carlisle would simply buy another one. It wouldn't be the first lab coat he'd ruined because he was angry about a domestic violence case. Carlisle was just glad it was only a pen this time, especially with the police chief watching him. It w _as_ possible for a man to break a pen if he squeezed it hard enough. Breaking his chair or desk in half might not be so easy to explain.

OOOOOOOOOOOOO

Carlisle threw away the lab coat before he left for the day and forced himself to walk out of the hospital in human speed. He was more eager than usual to see Esme tonight.

Emmett, Jasper, and Edward were in the middle of another wresting match when he arrived home. Esme looked gorgeous, as always weeding her garden and taking care of her flowers. Carlisle had a feeling she was also outside to keep an eye on the boys. Esme knew they were indestructible, but she still like to assure her mother's heart they would be alright.

"Hi sweetheart," he greeted her as he got out of the car.

"Hi Carlisle," she smiled at him. She looked at his outfit. "Ruin another lab coat?"

Carlisle sighed and looked at the ground. "Yes." It wasn't that big of a deal; he could certainly afford to buy another. But Carlisle didn't like it when his temper got the best of him like that. He tried to practice _control._

Esme got up and brushed the dirt off her clothes. (She didn't really need to. She looked gorgeous covered in mud, taking care of her flowers like she took care of everyone in their family.) Then she held out her hand. "Come with me."

Esme always knew when he needed to talk to her.

"So, what made you upset Carlisle?" she asked as they walked to their bedroom. The sound of the TV could be heard from the distance. Alice and Rosalie were probably watching something.

"That woman who keeps coming in with bruises and injuries, Carol Quincy, came into today. With a broken arm that needed an operation. And broken ribs on both sides. Her husband's hurting her, Esme," he growled.

Esme nodded. The growl didn't bother her. "And she reminded you of me," she concluded. They'd had enough conversations like this for her to know, Carlisle supposed.

"Yes," he admitted. "I just think of you like that…and I wonder why I didn't…"

" – Come back for me," Esme finished. She touched his cheek as they entered their bedroom. "Carlisle, we've talked about this before. That wasn't a good time in my life, but I don't blame you for something you couldn't have known about. And…I'm glad I had my baby, even if he _did_ only live a couple of days."

Carlisle shrugged. "I know, Sweetheart. It's just hard to deal with, when I see the physical evidence of what you would have gone through everyday back then. But it looks like Mrs. Quincy is going to be fine. She finally called the police. The police chief was with her today. He interviewed her and looked at her x – rays. I think the husband will get arrested."

Esme smiled. "I'm glad women _can_ arrest their husbands for hurting them these days."

"Me, too."

"Something good did come out it today, though, as angry as it made me. I mean, besides the fact that Mrs. Quincy will be away from her husband now. Police Chief Swan was…quite impressed with me, I guess." Carlisle shrugged. "I think that could be a good thing, to have the respect of a police officer, if we need it." He wasn't able to "lift his mask" completely around Chief Swan, of course. That was impossible. But at least the officer saw Carlisle enough to know he was a good doctor that could be trusted.

Esme nodded. "You may be right."


End file.
